


Knock Knock

by Supertights



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Comics), Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Big Damn Heroes, Character Death Fix, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, M/M, Mild Language, Not Beta Read, POV Third Person, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-25 14:17:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2624867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supertights/pseuds/Supertights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"--It’s a door. It’s one person wide. When you go through it, you do it alone. But it doesn’t mean you’ve got to be alone before you go through the door. And believe me, you aren’t alone on the other side." ~ Jim Butcher -- Dead Beat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knock Knock

**Author's Note:**

> Making a habit of this it appears. I can't help but think that editorial mandate (I'm assuming) be damned, there is enough room for more than one Nova in the Marvel Universe.

The Door, formerly known as Richard Rider, Nova Prime, once of Earth and now of nowhere and everywhere, had expected to cease existing immediately after leaving the Cancerverse. To his great and enduring surprise, he did not.

Lost, adrift between dimensions, the Door watched his friends and family from afar-- because a door, whether used or not, is either open or closed. Except that this Door was neither open nor closed, or perhaps he was both-- he couldn't fathom what he was any more. He was roughly Richard in shape though, roughly Richard of mind, but more, and also less, as a result of his final battle against Thanos. He was made of energy drawn from the cosmic cube and the Nova force combined, and while it wasn't the first time he had been composed entirely of energy, he had yet to decide if it would be the last time.

He could move instantaneously and fluidly through space and time though he has ceased to think of them as such. In the microsecond it took him to think he missed someone, he was there next to them, unseen. He watched Peter Quill, who was, as always, a hot mess, flailing from one dramatic death-defying escape to the next. Gamora pushed for answers that Peter had sworn never to give, her emotions bubbling on the surface of her skin like bruises on her soul. He could see such things now, soul being just another word for energy of a type living things didn't truly understand until they were no longer bound by their physical bodies.

There were times he felt so close that he might reach out and touch them, comfort them when he saw them pause on the edge of wrenching grief, but he always drew back, just before that moment. He feared what might happen, he was still a Door after all and he didn't know where he led any more.

When he had first made the decision, he had been ready to pass beyond life, to die heroically not that he saw it in those terms. Now, inexplicably linked with his former life, he found he could not simply cease being. So he watched from the periphery.

He was content, if not to live, then to observe life.

Until the day Peter fucked up again, badly this time, maybe even catastrophically, and the team stood back to back, Death looming imminent over them, for the Door could see Her too. She returned his gaze and smiled, Her mouth a small and cruel bow. She remembered him as he remembered Her.

He felt his rough energy tighten instinctively back into Richard, skin forming a surface, fingers taking shape on his only remaining hand, hair lengthening, whipped around his face by invisible breezes. He flexed his muscles, stiff and unused, but full of power. He grinned at Death, flipping her the bird. She turned Her face aside at the crude gesture and he placed his palm on the dimensional barrier, pushing.

With a rush of air, his nostrils flared as they were assaulted with the smell of death, blood and burning bodies, the Door opened and reached through to grab hold of Peter but his body, now mostly reformed, fell through the doorway awkwardly and it closed behind him.

Death laughed at him soundlessly, doubled over in amusement. He scowled at Her.

Quill jerked and looked sideways, eyes widening. His mouth moved but no words emerged, he swallowed and tried again. “Gamora, you need to see this--” he bellowed over the shrill of the battle. She looked at him-- no, _them_ , angrily, gripping her sword tighter, then set her mouth to a grim line and began to cut a line through the battle towards them.

“Liar! Quill, I will see you bleed!” she growled.

Drax glanced up from the corpse in his hands and laughed his berserker laugh. “Rider!”

“I am Groot!” said Groot delightedly, batting away a group of opponents as one might brush dust from their clothing. Rocket’s snout fell open in surprise and he gripped Groot as he swung up higher to get a better look.

“Uh, this wasn't exactly what I had planned but thanks, it’s good to see all of you too,” replied Richard Rider in a voice ringing like a hundred swords clashing together at once. He glowed with energy he shouldn't still have, residue from the cube or from the Nova force. It receded from his body, washing away his strength and left him, more or less, in the condition he had been when he’d last been alive technically.

“Ow, inside voice, inside voice,” said Peter, covering his ears, as did many other fighters close to them.

Richard stumbled and Peter caught him before he fell, Quill’s eyes wide, still surprised, but warm with relief and thanks. “I’ll take it as a win!” said Peter, firing indiscriminately into the enemy ranks that pushed against their position desperately. “Pick up the first weapon you find and start fighting back or we won’t live long enough to enjoy it!”

“Well it’s about fucking time you showed up, Rider!” snapped Rocket, tossing him a rifle larger than the furry Guardian’s own body. Groot towered over them all, Rocket clinging to him shoulders, shooting at random. He grinned, lines of sharp teeth flashing at Richard. “It’s nice to see you back, but we _gotta_ talk about that other Nova kid sometime. He’s just a barrel of laughs.” He cackled as he shot the spines out of an approaching wave of Badoon infantry. “Stupid brave though. Kinda reminds me of someone equally stupid,” he grunted.

“Other Nova?” asked Richard, pulling the trigger. The gun didn't recoil as heavily as he’d expected and he nodded a thanks to Rocket who gave him a casual salute in return.

“Yeah, it’s a whole thing but we’ll talk. Later,” grunted Rocket. “If we get outta here in one piece.”

“I already said that,” grouched Peter, frowning. “Sort of.”

“Less talking, more killing!” screamed Gamora, who had fought through to them finally, and stood back to back with Richard, shoving Peter out of the way roughly. She pressed herself against Richard, not pausing from the fight for a moment. “Celebrate the usual way afterwards?” she asked as her sword bit through a Badoon soldier’s neck, spraying them both with blood. “No one keeps up with me quite like you do.” Her version of _‘I missed you, where have you been?’_

He hesitated a moment too long and she stiffened. “Wouldn't have it any other way!” he replied in a rush, loud enough for her to hear. She remained tense though.

Cautiously, she said, “I have many enhancements, Richard, not all of my own choice. They’re under the skin but know that I have lived the same pain and loss as you. I will stand with you as you grow to accept them.” Her voice was full of unexpected, albeit fleeting, kindness, and something else, something more primal. Love maybe? He jerked at that, could she know how he truly felt? He’d said it in anguish, had thought longer about it. He wasn't sure any more, he’d loved Namorita as much. Peter had given his word not to tell her but had it slipped out? “Besides-- you know I like to be on top, Dick,” she added casually, breath lingering on the last word, looking back at him, her mouth curled into a toothy ferocious smile.

Blue blazes. He was in love.

“Oh. My. _God?!_ Can you two _please_ focus on surviving and not the after party until it’s time to actually party?! It’s just a little pre-emptive given our current situation,” said Peter as he danced by them, firing unrelentingly and providing cover fire long enough for the two to kiss. “Guys?! What did I _just_ say?”

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless rewrite of Richard Rider's untimely demise in Guardians of the Galaxy. Fictional character be damned. Fuck anyone who thought he deserved that shit.
> 
> Not beta read, if you catch something, please mention it so I can fix it. Cheers.
> 
> Quote from Jim Butcher's Dead Beat.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and make no profit from their use in this fictional story.


End file.
